


Loose Gravel

by clickclickclickclick



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Spider-Man: Far From Home, Creepy Quentin Beck, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mid-Canon, Serious Injuries, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickclickclickclick/pseuds/clickclickclickclick
Summary: Peter was merely blindsided by the train, and Quentin Beck isn't happy to see Peter is still alive. Much less the fact Peter is still fighting.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Kudos: 18





	Loose Gravel

**Author's Note:**

> back on my bullshit part #83473230
> 
> I cannot be stopped.
> 
> i also have no idea how to tag 'was hit by a train'

He can feel the gravel starting to dig into his back through the fabric of his suit. His fingertips fumble, catching at the edge of the cloth mask he's wearing, pulling it up over his nose as he breathes out. He can taste the lingering blood in the back of his throat with each heavy breath. It takes more strength than it should for Peter to completely peel the mask away. 

Every movement feels excruciating. He knows logically, he's lucky he didn't get pulled under the train. If he had just been slightly towards the middle of the track he would have been ran over, instead he was knocked aside with the full force of the train at top speeds. His hands drop back to his sides, one hand clutching loosely at the black mask. 

Peter's gaze is locked upwards at the clear blue sky as he listens to the sound of the train growing more and more distant. Peter opens and closes his fists, trying to gauge what doesn't hurt. His thoughts are too scattered at the moment for the warning jolt of his spider sense to really register. A figure steps forward into his line of sight, blocking Peter's view of the sky. 

"God, you make even the most simple of plans a pain." Beck sighs, agitation dripping from his tone. "I was feeling so sentimental and then, you just ruined the moment." Peter coughs weakly, turning his face away as he tries to get his body to work with him. Nothing seems to be working coherently together as a unit. The man above him sighs. "Oh, Peter. Do you really think you'll get up from this?" 

The sixteen-year-old grunts back, stretching out his leg as he tries to sit up. For one moment he feels vindicated as he gains some movement before realizing it is Beck nudging him further back away from the tracks with his shoe. The man isn't even looking at him anymore. His gaze is focused on something only he cans see in the dome over his head. 

"Get the preparations for London started." The man says into his headset, "I can handle the brat from here. He's barely alive." 

Peter manages to ball up the mask in his hand and throw it at Beck. The mask hits the dome with a thwump, sliding down the glass. That much startles and irritates Quentin Beck in equal measure. What Peter can see of his expression twists into something ugly. 

"God, you are a pain." Peter can make out the man moving to take the dome of off his head, carefully setting it aside. He crouches down on Peter's level. 

"No wonder Stark kept you around, you're a real pain. Impossible to actually kill." His gloved fingertips grab Peter's chin firmly, forcing the teenager to look at him. "With his track record, he killed nearly everything else he touched." Peter grits his teeth, unable to find his voice to retort back. 

"I'm going to make you regret not dying." Peter meets his eyes, glaring back. Beck releases his hold on Peter's chin, dropping his hand to trace his way along the teenager's body. 

"It's almost a shame. Like I said earlier, you're something special, Peter." His finger grabs at a zipper, pulling it down roughly. "You're just so god damn naïve. It’s almost funny, cute even." Air against his bare skin is enough to make panic rocket down Peter's spine. Fingers settle against the base of his throat, squeezing tightly enough Peter struggles to breath. His vision grows spotty before Beck finally lets go of his throat. 

Peter tries to squirm away from the older man, grimacing in open pain as he can't get his body to function. Beck settles his knees on either side of Peter's waist, trapping the teenager in place. Peter tries to move, but his body isn't working with him. 

"This is all your fault, Peter." He breathes out with a sharp kind of laugh; he brushes his lips against Peter's neck. "You did all of this. Now your little friends have to pay the price for you not being good enough. Don't forget that, Peter." 

Gravel digs into his back, and all Peter can focus on is breathing as Beck's weight settles over the top of, him. The sky is clear, and _everything_ hurts. 

— 

His knees want to give out under him, but Peter stands as tall as he can manage. His hands shake around the holster of the gun. Even with the terrified energy rolling through him, his aim never falters. The smell of smoke is making his stomach churn uncomfortably as he stares down at Quentin Beck. The drones continue to burn as Peter holds his ground. His eyes sting as the smell grows stronger, burning metal and plastic. 

The older man just smiles at him, smug energy even as he struggles to balance himself on his elbows. The man is bleeding out from a stray bullet. He was downed by one of his own drones. There is something horribly ironic about it all. The EDITH glasses feel heavy on his face as he just stares down at Beck. 

He never wanted any of this. He just wanted to protect people. He just wanted a normal summer. 

He wasn't meant to have anything, was he? 

“Maybe, I’m not good enough, but I’m not you.” Peter says quietly back, “Think that gives me the advantage.” 

Beck wheezes weakly back at him, trying to laugh as blood dribbles down his chin. The man’s bright eyes follow the end of the gun, as Peter stares at him. 

“Pull the trigger, kid.” 

Peter laughs a little himself, baring his teeth back at Beck. “I’m not you. I’m not going to take the easy way out.” Even with the boiling anger in his guts, Peter won’t pull the trigger. Quentin Beck deserved to be in the Raft. He deserves to be punished for every person he hurt or killed. He wasn’t going to get off lightly. 

Peter only lowers the gun once SHIELD arrives. He presses the hand gun into Maria Hill's hand and turns away. He never looks back at Beck. 

There is nothing to see. 

The sky is clear and everything hurts. 

It will get better, even if he has to hurt just a little bit longer.


End file.
